


Restart

by KivaEmber



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Oneshot, Post-Anime, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let’s be friends in the next life. Well, Yamato thought that, technically, this was a loop of the same life, not a new one. It didn’t count.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restart

"...r...sir? _Sir_!"

Yamato started abruptly at the near shout, straightening up quickly only to still. His vision was a little blurry, a rawness clinging to his eyes as he blinked slowly. The person standing before him slid into sharp focus, and in his disorientated state, Yamato felt something in his stomach wobble nauseously at recognising them.

“…Makoto.”

“Sir…” Makoto’s expression was furrowed with mild worry, and she was half leaning towards Yamato’s desk – although professional enough to maintain proper distance. “Are you alright?”

Was he alright?

Yamato took that quick moment to glance about him. It was his office at JP’s – the one beneath the Diet Building. It was Spartan and medium sized, lined with rows upon rows of metal file cabinets. It looked exactly as it did before the Septentrione Invasion. But it shouldn’t.

“Sir?”

Yamato Hotsuin had died. He had felt himself die. It had been an interesting experience, from a certain standpoint. Hah, was this how Kanno felt before she had been obliterated by Benetsnatch’s beam? Detached fascination and observation?

But the fact remained that he should still be dead. Yamato’s internal organs had been puree, and his soul stretched to breaking point. He had given every inch and every atom of himself to defeat Hibiki, to bring about a Meritocracy –  _he should not be alive_.

And neither should Makoto-

“Sir,” Makoto’s voice was gaining an edge now, and Yamato refocused his attention back on her. She was gripping the file of papers close to her chest, her knuckles white – and he remembered the wires that ripped right through her torso and

_‘You were my reason for living. Thank you.’_

“Makoto,” Yamato said, unsettled by that ghost of a memory slipping through him. Makoto’s death had – yes, it had been unsettling. Foolish woman, that was what he told himself at the time. She meddled in something she was half-hearted towards, and ultimately lost her life. It was expected, but it still, unsettled him. Thank you. She thanked him, at that time. She did something so – foolish. He expected more from her.

“Yes, sir?”

“…” Yamato leaned back in his seat. “Never mind. Just a passing concern.”

Makoto’s expression was confused, but she did not press Yamato any further, dipping her head into a small bow of understanding. Still, her eyes were sharp and scrutinising, but Yamato met them evenly despite his disorientation.

Dream, hallucination, illusion or…?

 

* * *

 

Then Yamato saw  _him_. Outside the gates. A worthless politician at his side in the car, an equally worthless place as his destination, and Hibiki Kuze, standing beside the gate, his blue eyes wild and wide and desperate and-

“Do you know this young man?”

The politician spoke, and Yamato felt himself smirk a little. Ridiculous. Hibiki was too soft and ridiculous for him at times. He still ached from defeat, he was humiliated from this mercy that Hibiki had showed upon him (because he realised now, what had occurred), so he met those desperate blue eyes, and said without a shred of doubt or hesitation;

“No. I don’t have friends.”

Then those eyes were gone, the car pulling away from the Diet Building’s gates. Yamato turned his head forwards, and felt the smile on his lips fade. No friends. That was how it was supposed to be. In the next life, they had promised, but, technically, did this count as a next life? More like a… restart, a loop with a different ending.

“No… not quite yet…”

Yamato ignored the odd look of the politician, and glanced outside of the window again, a wry smile on his lips. He wouldn’t make it so easy for Hibiki – it would encourage him to think that Yamato Hotsuin could bend to his will.

 

Besides, Yamato favoured hard work. If Hibiki was truly serious about his claims of friendship, he would claw after Yamato as he did before. There was nowhere he could hide from him anymore, after all. If not physically, then these memories would certainly dog him well into the next life. 


End file.
